Soon
by diabolique
Summary: What if Nuriko had a relationship earlier that began to haunt him in the form of it's left overs? Now he's really sick and Hotohori and he have to deal with the after effects. (shounen ai implied)
1. Soon

 Hello all. The idea for this fic came to me suddenly one day in the shower. I was reading this great poem by Vikram Seth called 'Soon' earlier  (which I highly recommend) and it occurred to me that if Hotohori and Nuriko ever did actually get together, they might have to face the problems most other gay people are facing nowadays – namely, a fear of AIDS. This is not to say that straight people don't fear AIDS, but that it seems to be more prevalent and associated with being gay. I mean no disrespect and do not wish to be targeted by people who might take umbrage at my explanations. It's what I truly think and is supported by most of my friends; a few who are actually gay and have no problems with my asking them stuff like this. So, please do not think of me as judgmental and let the story speak for itself.

Disclaimer: - I do not own any of these characters. I am not Vikram Seth and hence, do not own the poem 'Soon'. This fic is entirely based on my imagination and is a sign of my great respect for the wonder of Seth.

Soon.

I shall die soon, I know. 

_This thing is in my blood._

_It will not let me go._

_It saps my cells for food._

   My hands are still shaking. I'm sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for the bus and my hands are shaking like they're never going to stop…

   When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining, the trees were green and everything was right with the world. Now the world's all torn up and I can't see anything but dust and dirt and pain and grime.  I know people are walking by and staring at me but I can't really bring myself to care at this point. Why bother worrying about that when I've got so much more on my mind? After all, it's not every day that you find out you're dying… And that you might be taking the one you love most in the world with you.

   It feels like I've been sitting here forever. But that doesn't matter because I don't want to go anywhere. If I go anywhere, then it means that I'm moving on. Moving one step closer to telling him, moving that one step closer to the end. How am I going to tell him? I barely understand it all myself. And then... what then?

  I'm sure he won't leave me. He wouldn't! He loves me too much, doesn't he? Of course he does! It's silly to be worrying. He actually tracked me down in this life to be with me. That proves it… doesn't it? He wouldn't be angry about all this, would he? I really didn't know… how this happened…

   The bus finally arrives. I get on and try to tug my coat tighter around me to ward off the chill. The old lady on the seat beside me is giving me strange glances. I try forcing myself to smile at her but she's still staring at me. I wonder if my hair's out of place? Is that why…

   God! I can't believe how silly it is to be sitting here worrying about my hair when inside me…

   Inside me…

   I'm dying.

_It soaks my nights in sweat_

_And breaks my days in pain._

_No hand or drug can treat _

_These limbs for love or gain._

   I get down at my stop and trudge the three blocks to our quiet, little bed-sit. Normally, I skip down this road humming, but I don't want to any more. If he were here, I might have tried for him, tried to be happy for him. But he's waiting for me at home because I told him to. Because he thought that it wasn't really serious, just some sort of lingering flu that I might have caught over the winter. But it's summer now, and that brought cause for worry.

   When he first suggested the appointment, I was amused and pleased at this sign of his affection for me. The worry in his golden eyes was just another sign of his love.  Over waffles for breakfast, he told me in that velvety no nonsense tone that I was going to go to a doctor and that he had made the appointment. I remember laughing at him, thinking that I was invincible. I mean, I wasn't a warrior anymore but it had taken quite a bit to kill me, as far as I remember. Even in this life I'm playing the fool.

   He had wanted to come with me. Moral support, he had claimed. But I saw no real need for any support as such. Why make such a fuss over a little cough? So my chest hurt a little in the mornings and I was a little weaker than usual. Big deal! It's not like I hadn't had the flu before.

_Love was the strange first cause_

_That bred grief in its seed,_

_And gain knew its own laws-_

_To fix its place and breed._

   In a way, I'm glad he wasn't with me. The doctor's face when he had given me the results was so openly sympathetic that I couldn't bear it! It scared me that something I had thought so far in the past would have the power to come back and haunt me; hurt me. A previous relationship that I desperately wanted to erase from my memories. Someone before Sai, someone I never wanted to tell him about. But now there was no choice in the matter – I would have to tell him the truth; to save him… and to separate us. I knew that long before the doctor tried, painfully yet tactfully, to tell me.

   I'm standing outside our door now. I can't even remember how I climbed the stairs or whether I smiled at the bell guy. I can hear Sai fumbling about in the kitchen. I can picture him in I close my eyes and try. 'Not Unusual'. He always sings that particular song while cooking. It's familiar enough to bring tears to my eyes. My hands are trembling as they insert the key and twist it slowly in the lock. I can hear each tumbler move until they click into place. Ever since this morning, I'm constantly stuck in moments that last eternities. But this one's ending cause the door's swinging open…

   …And he's standing there. The windows are open and the sunlight's bouncing off his hair, making the sepia locks almost golden in their radiance. His lips are smiling, but his eyes are concerned. His mouth is opening, but I can't bear to hear the words. And then I can hear myself – 

"I'm dying, Sai." 

_He whom I love, Thank God,_

_Won't speak of hope or cure._

_It would not do me good._

_He sees that I am sure._

   We're sitting on the couch now. I think he's in shock. I know I am. He's shaking his head in disbelief as the whole story comes out – the boy I thought I loved, our one night stand, the fights, him leaving, me moving on, meeting Sai, deciding to let him be the first… because to me he was, keeping the truth from him, the test results – it all poured out of me in a sickening flood. Sai just keeps shaking his head and I keep begging him to look at me. But he won't. 

   I know it's all over now. He's walked over to brace his hands against the table. His back is so rigid and filled with pain that I can almost hear his muscles screaming. I want to go over and put my hand on his shoulder or hug him close to me, but I'm dirty now. And he finally knows.

   CRASH! He's pushed the table over. The china's broken and everything is seeping together. I notice but he doesn't. He's too busy tearing apart the rest of the apartment. He screaming at the same time, the same question that has been haunting me since I found out.

"WHY!"

_He knows what I have read_

_And will not bring me lies._

_He sees that I am dead._

_I read it in his eyes._

   He's over in the corner sobbing. I finally have the strength to try to touch him again. Crouching down beside him, I brush his hair away from his face, crooning to him, trying to comfort him. After all, he's the only thing that really matters. The only thing I know of that makes life worth living.  He's curled up in a corner shaking and I'm shaking too. And I'm holding him and he's holding on to me. And maybe if we hold each other together long enough, everything will be all right. Everything will be all right again.

   When he finally calms down enough, we move to the bedroom. Spooning together, we talk about everything. If there could be a mistake, how long I have left, when he should go get tested, why I never told him… everything except if he wants to leave. I can't bear knowing the answer. If he stays, I'll never know if it was pity or love. And I don't know if he truly will either. But then… maybe he's got it too. What then? I couldn't bear to know that he might be hurt because of me, dying because of my past…

_How am I to go on -_

_How will I bear this taste,_

_My throat cased in white spawn – _

_These hands that shake and waste?_

   We're back at the clinic now. Sai's getting his blood tested. They say they'll let us know by this evening. The doctor's telling us both about precautions until then. What we can and can't do. How many times I have to come see him. Medication, treatments, the parasites in my blood…

   We're both nodding, but we're not really here. It's just a dream, isn't it? Some sort of horrible dream that we've gotten sucked into by mistake. Maybe if I pinch myself hard enough, I'll wake up. Then I can turn over and Sai and I can cuddle until I go back to sleep. But I can see the bruise on my arm growing and I'm not waking up…

   And then suddenly, we're back home again. I don't remember much about how we got her. Memories float in of shaking the doctor's hand, collecting my prescriptions, getting into the car and then they float back out of my conscious. Sai's hugging me gently as we sit on the sofa. He's whispering into my hair that it doesn't matter, that he loves me, will stay with me for as long as I'll give him. And then we're both crying… 

… and my hands won't stop shaking…

_Stay by my steel ward bed_

_And hold me where I lie._

_Love me when I am dead_

_And do not let me die._

**______________________________________________**

Author's note: - any constructive criticism or review is welcome. The story isn't over and will probably have one more chapter. I was too tired to proof read so I apologize for any mistakes. My computer has the rather nasty habit of eating my files and so I thought it might be safest to post this while I still can. Any comments would be appreciated. As you can tell, the story is from Nuriko/ Ryuuen's point of view.

As always I remain,

Diabolique.


	2. Holding on

   This is the continuation of Soon. The poem used is 'Holding on' - One of my own. I'd appreciate it not being used without my express permission. The poem was not written with this effort at fiction in mind, but seemed to fit the mood so aptly that I couldn't help adding it in. Any criticism, advice, comment or suggestion in regard to my poetry or writing would be appreciated. I'd really like the input. This section is also from Nuriko/ Ryuuen's point of view. If I've made any mistakes, please let me know. I might go over it later again and rewrite it, if I think I might be able to improve it in any way.

Disclaimer: - I do not own any of the characters I write about in this particular fiction. I do, however own the poem, and it is preserved under my own name in certain records.

Holding on.

_I'm sitting on my bed._

_My pills are by my side._

_I'm thinking I am dead – _

_The truth no longer hides._

   It's been almost three years since I found out I was sick. I'm sitting at home. It's the middle of the day, and I'm wrapped up in blankets because the chill in the air is too harsh for my system. Sai's out working. Someone has to support the two of us, and he got elected due to the sheer fact that he isn't sick…

   Thank Suzaku, he isn't sick! That evening when the doctor called us to inform us of the results, I was barely able to move for fear. That I was dying was all right. I could deal with that. But **_Sai_** dying – I couldn't even begin to conceive of the thought. And then the phone was ringing.

    I could hear him murmuring answers but my mind was too numb to process anything but the sound of his voice. It shook slightly, with fear and emotion. And then he looked at me, and I knew he was safe… because I could see guilt in his eyes. Guilt because he couldn't join me, guilt because he was relieved.

   It tore at us for a while. He wanted to cosset me like a baby, to make up for everything and I wanted to do everything I hadn't done before. But then, he wanted me to be happy and safe and I wanted to sleep and never wake up to this endless nightmare.  The medication made me have uncontrollable mood swings – making me scream and cry with almost startling suddenness. I was loosing weight, becoming a pale shadow of my former self, still smiling and laughing but fading away into nothing. It tore at him and me that all he could do in the mean time was watch… watch me fade.

   And then my hair started to fall out. I think that was when it hit me the hardest. The day I woke up to find the pillow dusted with so many fine purple strands. And then, more on the comb that I ran gently through my hair. 'An unfortunate side effect' the doctor would have called it, but to me it was like the end of my world. Suddenly in that moment, everything became concrete. My hair was so much a part of me that I couldn't imagine myself without it. How many nights had Sai held me while nuzzling my hair? How many sweet secrets had been whispered into its lavender fall? How many lives had I spent brushing it in front of a mirror, marveling at how it changed me into beauty? I couldn't bear it!

   Before I knew it, I was in the bathroom, tearing through the medicine cabinet for something… anything. I didn't want to have to go through the degradation of having each part of me stripped away, slowly, until I would look into the mirror and not see myself anymore. And I didn't want anyone, **_anyone_** to have to remember me like that! 

_This life is but a dread_

_That I no longer take._

_There's nothing to be said._

_I shudder till I break._

   I was sitting on the bed after ingesting almost the entire contents of my medicine cabinet. I was waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. But all I noticed was a feeling of great drowsiness and then, a yearning to hear Sai's voice again. I barely remember picking up the phone or dialing his number. All I remember is telling him that I loved him, would always be with him. I remember putting the phone down on his frantic screaming and curling up on the bed with his pillow pulled against me. 

   The phone rang but I ignored it. I thought dimly of calling Miaka or the others. Earlier I had decided against telling them anything but I really wished that I could have hugged all of them one last time. The world was going dark now and I was sinking gratefully into its warm depths. Finally, I could rest. And there would be no more needles or hurt. I wouldn't have to see the sad look in the doctor's eyes each time my cough got worse, or I lost more weight. I wouldn't have to see the vague horror in the eyes of the nurse that she tried to cover while shrinking from my touch. And I wouldn't have to see the pain and guilt in Sai's eyes when he looked at me, wanted to kiss me, tried to hold me…

_For me there is no hope_

_In life's unceasing hours._

_I'm leaving you to cope – _

_Cement and scattered flowers._

   I was crying again then, tears leaking out of the sides of my eyes to run down my face. I wanted Sai with me in the end. I didn't want to have to die alone all over again. I wanted to be held and comforted and whispered to…

   And then, almost like a miracle he was there. Sobbing and frantic, but oh so very tangible. There were other people too. I couldn't really see them – there were more a blur of white against the wall paper. He was holding on to me and yelling at me to hold on, to open my eyes and look at him. To try, dammit! To not die this way, like a coward… I was worth more than that…

   I did try then. I pushed my eyes open and stared into those molten gold depths as he tried to hold on to our tenuous connection. Someone was yanking at my arm and taking my pulse but all I could see was the horror in the depths of those eyes, the understanding that came from the sight of the empty prescription bottles scattered all over the room, their lids open. I wanted to cry that I wasn't a coward, that I only wanted what was best for the two of us but I couldn't get my voice to cooperate. I could only moan and hope he understood.

_You say that you can save me._

_I say you've tried enough._

_You say that more can come to be…_

_But the effort's just too tough._

   I could hear the murmur of voices as Sai lifted me and carried me out to the street. My eyes felt so leaden, the lids so heavy. But every time I tried to surrender to the weight, Sai would beg me to keep trying, to live for him. If only for him. And I tried because I would give him anything he ever asked for. Because I loved him. I'd give him anything… except my kiss, my body, my pain, my nightmare.

   The doctor had said we could try intercourse if we were really careful, but I couldn't risk it. I didn't want to chance it at all. Sai tried once or twice but I resisted so vehemently that he turned away. I cried those nights, because deep in his eyes I had seen the pain… and the fear… and the relief. He wanted to be there for me, loved me enough to risk everything – the slow death that would possibly ensue, the insomnia because the thought of never waking up terrifies you…. But I would never risk him. 

   I remember getting to the hospital, having my stomach pumped. I remember the look in his eyes while he held my hand and waited for me to try to speak. I can see it now, hidden in their golden depths. The fear and the terror… He will never be totally sure of me now. He understands… and yet he cannot. He knows I will die before any breakthrough will ever emerge. But he can't imagine what that knowledge feels like within me. 

   He's trying hard now to let me live as peacefully as possible. He says he doesn't want to tie me down to anything in the time I have left. I know he wants to try but he won't. He's afraid that I'll try it again and that I won't make it through this time. But he knows that he can't watch me all the time. I tried to tell him my views, my reasons but he couldn't bear to listen. He just held me and cried…

… and so for him…

… for him, I'm holding on…

_You want me to be free,_

_And someday I'll be gone._

_But now you're holding me,_

_And I'm barely holding on._

Author's note: - That's it. I'm done with this particular topic. I've cried buckets over it. I know that possibly some of the stuff I've written may not be exactly right, but I think I've done the basics all right. I haven't openly mentioned what Nuriko is dying of, because it wouldn't just be AIDS but it would be some other viral form that the body would be unable to fight against. I've tried to see it from each character's point of view but I found it easier to put myself in Ryuuen's place (don't know why).

   Anyway, any input is much appreciated. I might skip back and forth in terms of tenses. I have problems minding them. If I've made that sort of a mistake, do let me know. I'm trying really hard to improve on them.

As always I remain,

Diabolique.


	3. The poems

The fic is officially over. Big thanks to everyone who took the time out to review - I appreciate it more than words can say. This last chapter is just to write the poems down in a continuous form. In the story, the verses are broken up and that somewhat detracts from the overall effect. This way, everyone can read the poems properly and understand the sheer genius of Seth. (I love this man completely. If ever anyone gets the chance, you have to try his book 'The Golden Gate'. An entire novel in verse. ..This man is my hero!) Roku Kyu, you have no idea what it meant to me to have you review. Thank you so much. I'll work on the grammar. Azure Angel Venus, you really keep me going. When I was considering giving up on 'It's not fair', yours was one of the reviews that changed my mind. Thank you for that (Although not everyone else may want to thank you for making me continue... but now I can't stop! Mahahahaah!) Anyway, thank you all.  
  
Disclaimer: - The poem 'Soon' is the property of Vikram Seth. The poem 'Holding on' is my own property. Trying to plagiarize either will land you in a place with a very hot climate... and I don't mean the Bahamas.  
  
The poems.  
  
Soon. (Vikram Seth)  
  
I shall die soon, I know.  
  
This thing is in my blood.  
  
It will not let me go.  
  
It saps my cells for food.  
  
It soaks my nights in sweat  
  
And breaks my days in pain.  
  
No hand or drug can treat  
  
These limbs for love or gain.  
  
Love was the strange first cause  
  
That bred grief in its seed,  
  
And gain knew its own laws -  
  
To fix its place and breed.  
  
He whom I love, Thank God,  
  
Won't speak of hope or cure.  
  
It would not do me good.  
  
He sees that I am sure.  
  
He knows what I have read  
  
And will not bring me lies.  
  
He sees that I am dead.  
  
I read it in his eyes.  
  
How am I to go on -  
  
How will I bear this taste,  
  
My throat cased in white spawn -  
  
These hands that shake and waste?  
  
Stay by my steel ward bed  
  
And hold me where I lie.  
  
Love me when I am dead  
  
And do not let me die.  
  
Holding on. (S. S. N.)  
  
I'm sitting on my bed.  
  
My pills are by my side.  
  
I'm thinking I am dead -  
  
The truth no longer hides.  
  
This life is but a dread  
  
That I don't want to take.  
  
There's nothing to be said.  
  
I shudder till I break.  
  
For me there is no hope  
  
In life's unceasing hours.  
  
I'm leaving you to cope -  
  
Cement and scattered flowers.  
  
You say that you can save me.  
  
I say you've tried enough.  
  
You say that more can come to be.  
  
But the effort's just too tough.  
  
You want me to be free,  
  
And someday I'll be gone.  
  
But now you're holding me,  
  
And I'm barely holding on. 


End file.
